When I wrote about finding Senem, I also wrote about one of the girls at work having seen my post on one of the sex sites. As I said, she didn't recognize me from my face or body, she recognized me by the distinctive scar on my right arm. When she first mentioned having seen my ad, she immediately defended herself by saying she wasn't actually looking for sex. She just got a kick out of looking at the ads themselves, and reading what people wrote. However, and it was slightly embarrassing since it was a site I had posted naked pictures on, she did say what she saw of me wasn't half bad. And, about a week later, she posted a message to me on the site itself, saying that I'd get responses if I was more aggressive in my post. It was the desire for that romantic bull shit that I'd written about that was keeping women away.
That's where I left it with her, without even responding to her message, because I'd written what I wanted, not what others wanted. And, even if I had gotten more responses that way, I wouldn't have been able to live up to them because aggressive forceful sex is not my style. Besides that, I got my first message from Senem not too long after that, and other than suspend my account there I forgot all about that site. That is until a few weeks later, after Senem and I had started our affair. That's when, during one of our smoke breaks, the girl at work who we'll call Lisa, brought the subject up again.
As soon as the others had left the break area, so we could talk freely, she told me I should have listened to her. When I asked about what, she said about the site, because she'd seen that I'd given up and suspended my account. My answer was to say that I'd suspended my account, but not because I'd given up. It took a couple of seconds for the words to hit her, then she asked me if I meant what she thought I meant. Had someone actually answered that romantic garbage? When I just gave her a look, she said that just because they answered, that didn't mean anything. We were probably just exchanging love letters instead of getting right to business. Had I done it her way, I'd probably be fucking the girl already, instead of still playing romantic games.
The look I gave her this time, that raised eyebrow look, told her she was wrong. Now, instead of leaning back and talking to me like that, she was leaning forward and I had her full attention. She then asked if I expected her to believe that I was fucking someone besides my wife. I told her that it didn't matter what she believed, but that I hoped she'd keep what we talked about to herself. I think it was the request to keep it secret that convinced her, not anything else I'd said. Because, first she assured me she wouldn't say anything, since she hadn't told anyone about the ad, then she asked what I'd do if the girl ended up pregnant. I just laughed and told her that wouldn't happen, because we didn't do anything that could get her pregnant. Of course, since she was on that anti-romance kick, she said she'd figured I wasn't doing anything, probably just laying in bed, kissing and talking about love.
I just shook my head and told her that there was more to sex than just fucking. We didn't fuck in the traditional sense, because neither of us liked condoms, and because she and her husband were working on having a baby. But, there was plenty of oral sex in both directions, and some anal sex as well. And, just because it was slow and romantic, didn't mean it wasn't sex. I don't know why I was giving her all these details to be honest, since it was none of her business. Maybe it was because I wanted to tell someone who might approve, instead of the reaction I was getting from my best friend. Or maybe I was hitting on her in a way, because I'd had more than one fantasy about her too. Whichever it was, it didn't matter, because her response was to say that the romantic stuff wasn't her style. She preferred her sex to be hard and fast, and I could keep that other shit between me and my girlfriend.
That ended the conversation for a while, but it left me with a weird feeling. When she'd made that last statement, there seemed to be a slight edge to her voice, almost as if she was pissed off about something. Maybe she just found romantic lovemaking so distasteful that it showed in her voice. Or she might have been angry because I hadn't taken her advice about writing more aggressively, I don't know. Not that it really mattered to be honest, since I was satisfied with what Senem and I were doing. Except that something soon gave me a reason to believe there was more to her reaction than just thinking romantic sex was disgusting. Because, not only did she not talk about that subject with me anymore, she pretty much stopped talking to me at all. If it didn't have to do with work, she would hardly say a word to me at all after that. It was almost as if she had wanted me to be interested in her instead of Senem. And, maybe all that talking she did about Senem and I not having real sex was her way of offering me real sex. But, if that's why she had turned cold, there was nothing I could do about it. The kind of sex she wanted and the kind of sex I offered were nowhere near the same. And, I wasn't going to change how I liked making love, so she'd just have to get over it.
That's the way it would have stayed, if the company hadn't done something to change things. You see, about once a quarter, someone from our two offices has to make a trip to our site in Spain. While she's usually the one to go from her office, from ours it's usually my boss who goes. This time though, my boss's wife was in the hospital for a minor operation, and he didn't want to leave her alone, so I got elected to go. And that's where what happened between Lisa and I really started. That's because the group who goes there has gotten into the habit of sitting around a table at the hotel to discuss the events of the day. And since the weather there is hot and dry, everyone cools off at those meetings with some nice cold Spanish beer. I'm not much of a drinker anymore, but I didn't want to be the odd man out, so I drank a few myself. However, while I may be able to hold my liquor, and not do anything totally stupid, that doesn't mean it doesn't affect me. I tend to get a little bolder than usual when I drink, and it wasn't long before I was harmlessly flirting with one of the girls from the Spain office. I say harmless, because both she and I knew we were just having fun, and weren't really trying to pick each other up.
Lisa, on the other hand, didn't seem to think that my flirting was harmless. Not that she said anything at the table, but she gave me a dirty look every now and then, and probably drank a little more than was smart. Again, her behavior was really none of my business, so I just ignored her. That's probably part of why what happened later that night happened, because no woman likes to be ignored. The meeting broke up around 10, and everyone went to their rooms to sleep off the beer. I didn't go to sleep, because I can never sleep early, and I guess Lisa didn't go to sleep either. That's because about midnight, there was a knock on my door. At first I thought something might have happened at home, and got a little worried about the knock. I mean, why would anyone else knock on my door at that hour? I definitely wasn't expecting anyone, and as I said, the flirting with the girl from the Spain office hadn't been serious enough for her to visit me. So, the only thing it could be the hotel staff bringing me some bad news. But, when I opened the door, I was relieved to see that it wasn't the hotel staff. Instead, it was another kind of bad news, and that was a pissed off and half drunk girl named Lisa.
As soon as I opened the door, she pushed her way inside and started lecturing me about my behavior at the meeting. She was going on about how unprofessional it had been for me to flirt with that girl in front of everyone at the meeting, and how I needed to learn to control myself. Luckily, she wasn't drunk enough to forget to keep her voice down, but she was still too drunk to realize she was out of line. When she stopped to take a breath, I asked her who the hell had made her my babysitter. I didn't work for her, and I was several rungs higher on the corporate ladder than she was the last time I looked. So, I didn't need to answer to her for anything, even if what I had done was out of line, which it wasn't. She started back in on how everyone at the table knew I was married, and how it didn't look good for a manager to act like that. And I came back with how the meetings were less an actual meeting than a social event, and that everyone at the table knew we were just joking around. Well, everyone at the table except her obviously. Besides, I wasn't the only person at the table who was joking around, so what business did she have coming to me and telling me I was out of line.
She started to say something in reply and actually made some false starts, before finally saying that we both knew it was just wrong for me to do it. That's when I realized this wasn't about me being out of line, it was something else entirely. And, I called her on it, saying she was just jealous because I hadn't been flirting with her instead. She of course denied that she was jealous, but her hesitation before saying it told me I'd hit too close to home for her. Then, before she could add anything to her denial, I reminded her that she wasn't interested in the kind of sex I offered, so why would I bother to flirt with her? I waited for her to tell me that this had nothing to do with that, and to again deny she was jealous, but she surprised me by attacking from a different direction. As a matter of fact, she attacked me below the belt, by aiming for my manhood. She started going off about how I just used that romantic crap because I wasn't man enough to come right out and tell a woman that all I really wanted was sex. Instead, I needed to fool them into thinking I really cared, so they wouldn't pay attention to what a lousy fuck I was. That's where I made the mistake of defending myself by saying I was far from being a lousy fuck, because her next words were for me to prove it.